


New War

by RainbowShifter



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Demacia, Gen, Large story, Major Characters can and will die, Noxus, Piltover, Shadow Isles, Shurima, Slow Build, War, Zaun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8001367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowShifter/pseuds/RainbowShifter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tensions in Valoran have never been so high. When a beloved character is found dead on the border between Shurima and Noxus, every Champion is sucked into a conflict which will change the shape of their lives as some need to chose between fighting for their friends, their family or themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Operation Piltover

“We are going to get sucked into this war,” she bluntly stated without so much as a greeting.

“We are protected.”

“By what? By what army? What people do we even have to protect?”

“The army will come soon enough. I have only just regained control over these people, I will not subject them to conscription and slavery once more. In the meantime, I have my Soldiers.”

“They are not real warriors. You have no idea the sort of strain controlling a whole army will have on you.”

“If we are invaded, the forces will not be able to get to the city. The desert is a perilous place for just one man. Imagine the type of creatures which would hunt if they sensed invading forces.”

“So you’re pinning your hopes on beasts and sand men.” It was not a question. “You hide yourself behind these city walls, cowering in fear and not wanting to show yourself, while also claiming that the city has risen again and it is the start of the rebirth of the Empire once more.”

“That is ENOUGH Sivir,” the golden hawk-like figure rose in anger at the tone he was being spoken in, “I allow you to take wealth and goods from me. I allow you to come and go as you please. I do not ask anything from you and that includes your counsel.”

Nasus huffed at the routine bickering going on before him and slowly leaned his head back against the sandy coated stone walls of the Throne Room. Back in the day it would have been filled with personal friends, feudal lords, generals, community leaders, foreign diplomats and Shuriman advisors who would all be vying for the attention of the Emperor. Ever since he was reborn, the only people allowed in the room were himself and Sivir. Ever since he was reborn, this was the only room where he did not have to use his powers and could rest… If Sivir ever let him. His trance – or rather daydream – was interrupted by the uncharacteristic roar of anger which came from Azir. He huffed once more and moved away from the back wall; the golden armour on his head and shoulders clinked too much and announced his movements too loudly for his own liking.

“Sivir perhaps,” the jackal began cautiously, “Your concerns are valid, however, we must turn our attention first to more pressing matters. My brother, the Shuriman people and Xerath are the ones which require the majority of our efforts. Would you not agree?”

The girl hung her head a little, silky black hair spilling over her shoulders, “There are a lot of caravans making their way to Shurima. Your people are prime targets for raider tribes and for the… creatures you pin so much of your hopes on. While the two of you sit here and worry about punishing a man for crimes he made centuries ago, I am going to focus of fixing what is happening in this moment.”

With that she turned and made her way out of the room, her crossblade already prepared for battle swung with the rhythm of her movements.

“He is no man,” Azir muttered as the doors swung shut behind his ancestor.

“You worry about her,” Nasus stated.

“I already lost my family once. I cannot lose what little I have left.”

“You have no power over her though, she has to decide what she wants to do with her life. We should not force her to stay here.”

“I know,” he shakily sighed and slumped back in his throne, keeping one clawed hand on his staff and the other slowly drawing circles around his temples. He was weak. Too weak. If somebody was to try and invade now, the Ascended being in front of Nasus would either be killed by the invaders or from the task of defending his people and the toll his magic would take on him.

“If the girl is right...” Nasus began

“Noxus would not be so foolish,” Azir’s voice quivered. Even he did not believe what he was saying.

 

* * *

 

Heavy footsteps splattered against the white marble footpath which led up to the Yordle Academy of Science and Progress. The dull sky made the entire city look old and mud-trodden, even with the shining futuristic buildings and the light whirring of machinery and the pale blue lights illuminating the streets. The group of figures huddled against the rain just a stone’s throw away from the Academy, their voices lowered to a whisper.

“So we all understand?” The smallest and slightest of the figures enquired. The sternness of the voice implied that any who did not understand would be promptly executed.

“In and out. Grab as much as possible,” snarled one.

“Once the alarms go off, we leave,” stated one of the fatter figures.

“I’m shakin’ in my boots,” another one chuckled loudly before being sharply elbowed in the ribs by one of his co-conspirators.

The figure which spoke first looked hard at the snarling one, “Remember what you are being payed for. If a fight breaks out, you die first.”

With that last word the group set off again. Upon getting closer to the Academy, one of the turrets started whirring to life but was quickly silenced by a cleaver slicing through the air and lodging itself into its hextech core. At the doors to the Academy, the small figure signalled and the other four paused as the figure disappeared in a small haze of purple smoke. After a brief moment the doors to the building silently slid open and the figure reappeared before leading the others inside. They made their way into a large lobby which had walls covered in various contraptions made by the city’s scientists and researchers. One of the figures stayed in the lobby, grabbing and dismantling as much as possible, while the other four split up and went either into the room labelled ‘Artefacts’ or into the library.

 

“Hey, Cait, we’ve got reports of some of the cameras being down in the Yordle Academy. Should I take a look?” A tall woman spun around in her chair to ask the smaller woman who was casually eating a cupcake behind her.

“I’ll come with you,” said Caitlyn, her eyebrows suddenly furrowing in confusion. She beckoned towards the door and the two began walking out of the Police Department, the Sheriff stopping to pick her gun from off the floor and swing it over her shoulder. At that time, the streets were characteristically empty of people, but there was still the smell of metal which clung in the air.

“What’re you thinking, Cait?” Vi asked as they rounded the corner and strode onto the street which contained Heimerdinger’s Academy.

“Those turrets and cameras were built by world-renowned scientists. There’s no way they just went out on their own,” she mused and swung her Peacemaker around and aimed it towards the Academy, “It looks normal from here though.”

“D’you think it could be… her?”

“It’s not flashy enough to be Jinx. Plus, she wouldn’t attack the academy.” The pair got closer and Caitlyn was just able to see a burly figure in the lobby through her gun’s lens. “Target spotted.”

“I’m going in,” Vi called, already bouncing ahead two steps of her partner. She darted forwards and crashed through the glass doors, fists first, and landed gracefully at the front of the lobby as smithereens of glass fell around her like snowflakes. She then seamlessly darted forward once more, raising her gauntlet and bringing it down on the back of the neck which belonged to the cloaked figure in front of her. The person staggered forwards slightly but did nothing more. It was only at this moment did Vi realise just how huge he was. It was like she was frozen in fear. Wait, no, she was actually frozen. A chain had tethered itself to her left arm and was so tight she could not even lift her arm. She ran her eyes over the length of the chain to find it connected to a brilliant purple crystal which floated atop a staff belonging to another, much smaller, cloaked figure. The huge figure in front of her then produced an ugly butcher’s knife encrusted with the blood of a previous victim. As the giant purple arm swung the knife down towards her, Vi heard two shots in quick succession. They both, of course, hit their targets. The first shot rung cleanly against the knife and it fluttered to the ground while the second shot had lodged itself into the arm of the other cloaked figure and earned a sharp wince. The pink-haired woman took this opportunity to dash forwards and bring both gauntlets crashing down on the figure who had just been shot, but, before she could bring both fists down, she was blocked by an ungraceful riot shield.

“We go now,” she heard the riot shield shout. Vi readied another punch but all her fist hit was something that sounded like a glass bottle. As soon as it smashed, green smoke filled her vision and her head felt fuzzier than it did last weekend when she challenged Ezreal to a drinking game. She was powerless to prevent her head clattering to the floor in a sickening thud.

“Net going out!” She heard Caitlyn say in a muffled voice in some far off land. It probably was not important. The only important thing to Vi at that moment was the pain coursing through the veins, being pumped around to every one of her muscles by the elevated heartbeat from the fight. She could not scream. All the police officer could do was contort her face into a silent scream as her skin peeled and melted and bubbled away from the arm which was still wet from whatever was in the glass bottle.

“VI? VI!” Somebody called at the back of her mind.

“Oh my god, Vi! We need backup right now. I have one criminal I captured, my partner is down, four other criminals are on the run.”

They had caught one. At least they did not all get away, was all Vi could think as her entire vision was engulfed in green flames.

 

“I don’t like leavin Warwick,” called the figure with the riot shield as the four of them darted down back alleys.

“He knew what he was getting into,” said the one with a bullet in her arm who was being carried by the largest figure, “How long until we get to Zaun?”

“Depends,” yelled the crab-like figure at the front of the group, “Can you leave a clone here.”

The woman nodded, gritting her teeth as she cast the spell.

“Did somebody get the prototype?” The one with the riot shield called.

“Mundo!” Yelled the large one and held up collection of glowing blue orbs wrapped in a sack which had suspicious red splatters on the bottom. That was fine then, as long as they had them it did not matter if Warwick had been captured. It was what he was there for anyway.

 

“I came as soon as I could,” Jayce came bursting into the Police Station, his hammer raised in anticipation but was instead met by the solemn face of Caitlyn as one of the leading doctors in Piltover explained Vi’s condition to her.

“She has experienced great psychological trauma from what seems to be inhaling the gases from a hallucinogenic potion. The liquid has also reacted with one of her arms. I’m afraid she will be out of action for quite a while”

Caitlyn thanked the doctor in the politest way she could muster and he bowed out of the station. Jayce spread his hands out wide in a quizzical gesture.

“She’s in the Piltover Institution. Ward 3,” Caitlyn sighed and slumped down on her chair.

“Is she going to be alright?” Jayce prompted urgently.

“She couldn’t stop screaming and she can’t move her arm.”

“Oh god.”

“Jayce… I have one of them locked up in the basement.”

The man nodded and moved towards the steps leading down to the holding cells.

“Jayce?”

He looked up again.

“I want you to kill them all.”

He nodded, “Once we find out who they are and once I am done with this one. Any idea what the name of this guy you've got locked up is?”

“Not a guy. It’s the head-hunter… It’s Warwick.”

Jayce sighed deeply and adjusted the grip on his hammer. “You think it’s Zaun?”

“I know it’s Zaun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So here marks the start of my first League fic. Now I often write fics that are slow starters or ones that don't make much sense at first but I encourage you to stick with me here. This is a story which needs this build up for the main bulk to make sense.**


	2. Operation Shadow Isles

The taste of satisfaction from the yearly sacrifice still lingered as her kin crawled around her half-naked body. She gave into the desire and let the final drop of Vilemaw’s venom seep into her veins and arteries, writhing in pleasure as soon as it started to pump its way through the spider-like woman. Her back arched as the pleasure flowed throughout her body. It had been too long. Immortal youth had never tasted so good.

“I sense new souls.” The emerald chain warden’s voice sung in the rotting air and was almost as sharp as his spectral scythe.

“My yearly sacrifice to the Spider God has been completed. Their souls are his to take,” Elise coolly stated, rising to a sitting position on a makeshift throne of rotting corpses and webbing.

“Your God,” Thresh corrected absent-mindedly as he drifted past her and progressed deeper into the spider’s lair.

“Wait, Thresh! I am not just here for the sacrifice this year and I no longer just represent Vilemaw’s kin,” she stood now, her slender legs making her human form looking almost fragile, and small spiders scurried around her feet in panic.

“Speak carefully for we do not rule here,” the emerald fire licked the air as Thresh opened his jaw to speak.

“I come as a representative of a very powerful Noxian organisation who seek favour with the commanding powers in the Shadow Isles. While you may not think so, that includes you.” Her voice was careful and she spoke in the exact way she had been commanded. It was natural, that since Elise spent most of her time residing in Noxus that she would be the first to be persuaded and the one to bridge the gap between the two nations.  

“You shall be wanting to speak with the others also?”

“Could you gather them?”

“We are free souls, we come and go as we please. I do not promise anything other than an eternity of torture. But I will find those with which you wish to speak”, Thresh whispered as he drifted away. The screams of anguish coming from his lantern faded away with the darkness as he moved away from the lair. Elise huffed in slight annoyance. She knew that there was a particular Wraith that was the key to the plan but who was also the hardest to win over… The overarching commander of the Shadow Isles himself: Mordekaiser.

 

Elise had waited longer than she would have liked and had started to wrap her Noxian cloak around her red and black body when she heard the moaning of souls drifting her way once more. The path leading to the lair had a slick, oily quality, making it treacherous underfoot. The crooked trees to either side were wretched, blackened husks that wept yellowed sap from where it looked like some panicked animal had clawed them ragged. Soft light shimmered between the trees, dancing like the corpse candles that flickered over marshland and drew unwary souls to their doom. The branches were hung with ragged cobwebs and in that moment Elise felt sorry for the ones that actually had to live on that damned place. But none of this seemed to matter to the figures which came through the mist, looming over the insects which dotted the floor. At the head of the group was none other than the Shadow of War. Elise had seen the horseman patrolling the coast at a few points in her life but had never come face to face with the murderous monstrosity. She knew only of his power and influence over many of the spirits on the Isles. Behind him came Thresh who was flanking the most terrifying being ever to walk Runeterra: Mordekaiser. With ever slow step came the crash of metal on metal. Elise became very aware of how small and alive she was. Liches and spectres now danced around the lair, forcing her spiders to retreat into the impenetrable darkness of their God’s lair. She had met the Iron Lord once before on her third visit to the Isles but back then he had been almost bored and could not care less about the natures of her visits. The final power of the Isles, the Deathsinger, came almost as quickly as the breeze. He was the only one Elise had never seen patrolling the Shadow Isles and was shocked at how ghastly he looked. Even beside the other three monstrosities, this one had what could only be described as a melted human face with cheeks and eyes sunk so far into the face they had disappeared.

The Pale Lady had given Elise strict instructions on each of the four undead as well as their histories. Back when they were alive, two of them had belonged to Noxus, one to the Blessed Isles and the other to an infamous kingdom etched in the memories of all.

“Speak.” Mordekaiser commanded and one of his liches hissed in anguish at the wait.

“I have come under the sail of the Noxian High Command and of The Black Rose. They wish for your aid on the battlefield,” Elise was aware of how alone and vulnerable she was without her kin around her.

“Noxus?” Mordekaiser sounded like he had chuckled.

“In battle you will have the opportunity to take many lives and souls from our enemies. More than even the Black Mist would take. More than you would have on your Harrowing,” she paused to see pleased reactions from Thresh and Hecarim as they both shifted their grips on their weapons. Karthus’ expression was unreadable. “Each of you have vast legions on undead at your command and after you help Noxus you will have thousands more souls who bow to you.”

“Why would we help Noxus become the most powerful nation in Valoran when that is our goal?” Karthus’ song drifted on the wind before sharply piercing Elise’s ears.

Hecarim, who only cared about bloodlust, was thankful for the political intelligence of Karthus. “He is correct. Death is everywhere. You do not own death. We can kill whenever you want.”

Elise eyed Mordekaiser once more and knew it was time for the trump card, “The Black Rose has many dark mages who have unspeakable power. Some say they even have the power to banish the undead. You would not want that. Especially given how much trouble that Yorick has been to you. And that is only a single mortal man. The Black Rose has also offered to give you ownership of the Immortal Bastion and allow you to take your rightful place as a Noxian military general.”

Mordekaiser tightened his grip on his deadly mace and summoned one of his liches to him, “Prepare. We go to war.”

Thousands of cold screeches filled the air, followed by the cheering of Hecarim and the spectral host of the Iron Order who rode with him. Their noises were joined by the squeals of spiders rising from the depths of the lair. And, finally, were completed by the almighty and unforgettable roar of the Spider God as he took his first step out of his lair. Vilemaw had risen.

 

* * *

 

In an unknown room, a group of mages who bore an ancient crest gathered hushed as their leader strode forwards into the circle. She quickly ran through the formalities that burdened her as Matron of the organisation so they could proceed with the real meeting.

“It pleases me to see that the Piltover mission was a success.” A voice said.

The Matron nodded slightly, “Yes yes the High Command is pleased yet I feel I was forced to go was in order to stop me from tampering with the preparations for our darling Elise. Fortunately, I was able to tell her what she needed to know. The inhabitants of those Isles will now be sailing to Noxus.”

“What of our control over them?” Another asked.

“If it comes to that their allegiance lies with us,” she stated confidently, “But I would prefer if we did not have to kill another Grand General.”

The young man next to her tutted in annoyance, the same way a child who had just been pulled away from burning ants alive with a magnifying glass would do.

“Vladimir, speak.”

“How many more of our members must we see take control of Noxian government only for them to abandon the ways of the organisation.”

“I would hope Swain’s recent lapse in judgement is solely due to his war plan.” A voice called.

“Maybe if he attended meetings I would believe that,” Vladimir coolly said, “Evaine, we have to face facts: we are no longer in control of Noxus.”

Matron LeBlanc considered this for a moment before responding, “Your concerns are valid. This is why we have the Shadow Isles as a precaution. I would prefer to find out conflict is inevitable before we enter this game with the Master Tactician. Politics is all about moves and counter-moves. A few right moves and our places within Noxian High Command will be ensured. Yet one wrong move and I'm afraid, my dear Vladimir, you may find yourself becoming crow food.”

Elsewhere, a bird cawed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I'm really glad I have finally got to write about the Shadow Isles. I thought for a long time about how I would get the residents fully involved in the story without feeling like it would be too out of character for them. I hope you all enjoy what is to come!**


End file.
